Orange Jumpsuits and Sharp Knives
by MateriaFlower1-1
Summary: If he saw that damn orange jumpsuit one more time... He would go insane. And that knife, so sharp, that she named herself after. It was probably because it was so shiny not because it could kill, with one swift flick of the wrist. The way he'd kill for her. A series of one-shots on the Ziddag pairing, with plenty of romance, dashes of angst, and a generous smattering of humor.
1. 010 Memory

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy IX_**

_So, you may have seen me around by now. If not, then here's what I'm doing: a series of prompt-based oneshots for several different pairings. The reason for the numbering is that I took two sets of 75 prompts and I just didn't want to change the numbering on the prompts I picked for this pairing._

_I've gone for an angsty take here... it's just the most fun? Gosh, that sounds awful! Well, anyway, please enjoy...? That sounds almost sadistic here._

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_010\. Memory_

It's been far too long since I saw him. An entire year, to be precise. I know that being Queen, I must act with a wise and serene aura, and speak as though I know no slang. Even though I used to love speaking so, I can't stand it now. I know that as the independent, 'Virgin Queen' I am, I shouldn't act as though my entire happiness depends on the existence of one man by my side; that it should waver with the fortunes of my country, of Alexandria. But I can't help but miss him. He opened a new world for me, one where I wasn't constantly keeping my head upturned to the sky. One where I could do whatever I want - be whatever I wanted. And now he's gone. At times, I see Steiner looking at me, sharing a sympathetic glance with Beatrix. I know what they're thinking, but it's never said. I often forget that he ever existed. Sometimes, I think he's just a false memory. It's difficult to tell what is just a dream anymore. Only Vivi will share stories about him with me, and I rarely see him. He's busy with his own family, and the Black Mage Village. I haven't seen him in a long time. Too long. Perhaps he's... No. I don't want to think like that, he won't, can't become just a memory too! I can barely remember my mother, and my father was never even an image true to my mind, just a distant man on the paintings that were so far above my head. I don't want another person to become just a memory! Too many people have left me, and sometimes, I feel as though I can't run a country, never mind live a life for myself alone! I just want those people back with me today, so that the nights aren't so cold and the days aren't so long. It pains me.

Perhaps for my approaching birthday I shall call them all back. But the biting voice at the back of my head crows at me - how long for? Would they even remember a stuck-up, spoiled, imposter of a princess turned queen? It plagues my mind, and haunts my dreams. There have been many nights, too many, where I wake up in a clamy, sticky sweat and the fading sound of that voice taunting my head. It sickens me to the pit of my stomach.

I have caught my reflection in passing in the many mirrors coating the luxurious, publicly viewed part of the castle, and every time my eyes are wide, doe-like, and sad. It hurts to admit how pained I look even to myself. I feel pity for Beatrix and Steiner having to loom upon every day, so long as this pain persists. This loneliness, this loss of memory - it not only causes me pain, but pain to those around me too.

Oh, how I miss them all. I miss _him_. But by now, he's just a faint blotch on my memory.

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_Oh Garnet, if only you knew! But there we are, I didn't really want a happy ending for this one - it's not all happy endings, after all!_

_If you enjoyed then please leave a review and follow for updates. Thanks!_


	2. 008 Orange

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy IX**_

**_Thank you to Jeffrey for your review! I'm afraid I'm not taking requests now, sorry, I have a list that I've done and I haven't much time to write anymore now, sorry!_**

_Here's the second in my series! Just a warning: __**This one had more sensuous/adult imagery. **__Nothing explicit, just warning if you're that young/are offended by this stuff. You can skip this chapter if you want, and there will be no impairment to future reading. Errrm...Enjoy!_

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_008\. Orange_

The first time that Zidane saw the princess (he didn't really care what her name was then) and that damn orange jumpsuit, he knew they were going to have some problems. The way it clung to every contour of her just curvy enough body; the way it seemed to act like a second skin - it was just distracting enough for him to get his tail cut off in battle. It didn't help that she had a face portraying her innate naïvety and skin as soft as fresh, juicy peaches. Perhaps it would do him well to remember her name - Garnet, was it?

Next time they were alone together, Zidane tried to persuade her out of that strange concoction of orange that seemed to be gracing his dreams far more often than he would've liked. Really, it was a wonder that all of his limbs were intact and he hadn't been maimed by the rusty knight for 'defiling the princess'.

Oh boy, he spoke too soon.

It was a very, very hot summer night just outside Madain Sari; most of their party had retreaded into the relative cool of their tents, but Zidane and Dagger had both elected to stay sitting around that blasted fire that wouldn't even have been lit if they didn't need the heat. Zidane had spent most of the past hour trying to keep his eyes firmly on the spluttering flames of the coughing fire to little avail. The tight, skin like jumpsuit just caught his attention no matter how much he tried; the way it glimmered in the dim firelight, the way it clung to every contour of her body, from her large, round breasts to her shapely hips and...

"Zindane? Is everything quite... well?"

Zidane restrained the urge to splutter like a mad man and kept his voice low - now was really not the time to wake Steiner or Eiko!

"Of course Dagger." God! If it wasn't enough that she was simply irresistible, she had the voice of an angel and the real face that could launch a thousand ships to match. And he didn't even want to get started on just how irresistibly ingenuous she was, so perfect for his less than innocent desires...

"Are you quite sure? You seem to be very hot, are you sure you wouldn't like to go into your tent?" She asked as sweetly as could be, shuffling so she was next to him and placing on oh so soft hand on his forehead as though to take his temperature.

"I'm just fine Dagger, although it is very hot, isn't it? Are you sure you're cool enough in that jumpsuit?" Zidane asked, hoping desperately that she wouldn't catch on to all of his deeper meanings. Of course she wouldn't - this was Dagger!

"Well yes, I suppose I am. I would postulate that you are too?" She shifted under Zidane's half lit intense gaze. "I suppose removing my undershirt wouldn't be too improper..."

She turned her back to him and Zidane watched in amazement as tortuously slowly and too far away, she slowly peeled the orange second skin down, just far enough so that she could take off her white undershirt and expose the soft skin of her back - just as peach like as he'd imagined - to him, before covering it up again all too fast.

She turned to face him with the shirt tightly clenched in one fist, and a gratuitous amount of skin showing - although to Zidane's dismay, she elected to lace up the front if her suit as tightly as it could go, showing him no skin past the far too modest cut of the neckline.

And it only served to make Zidane even hotter.

"Will you not join me?" Dagger asked with a sweet, sweet smile - almost as though she knew exactly what she was doing, and this was her cruel way of getting vengeance for all the times Zidane had come onto her.

He swallowed thickly. "I suppose I could." And not breaking eye contact with those sweet fawn eyes, he slowly undid his own shirt, removing it entirely with his brash over confidence.

Did she even know what she did to him?! The tension in the air was tangible; it could be cut with even the bluntest of knives.

"Are you cooler now, Zidane?"

_No. Of course not, not when I can see down the enticing crevice in your breasts. _"Yes" he rasped in a voice he didn't mean to come out.

She'd looked taken aback by it too, but recovered quickly - surely something she'd learnt as a princess - and her eyes, if he wasn't mistaken, darkened a shade. Perhaps the princess wasn't so innocent after all? But he'd never know, because this was forbidden, more than the orange jumpsuit should be.

He stood up, shirt in hand and left her there by the orange fire, and even though he could feel her hurt and confused eyes boring into his skull, he didn't cave in.

"Sorry princess, but I'd rather like to keep my head in my shoulders." He muttered, just loud enough so that that he half hoped despite himself that she'd hear over the crackling fire.

That night, he dreamt of orange.

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_Yeah, I did warn you! It's nothing huge, but I just thought I'd say - you never know! Please, review if you've got time and liked it, and follow for more to come! Thanks!_


	3. 020 Guard

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy IX_**

_Here is another oneshot! (If you couldn't tell already) I hope that you'll like it. Enjoy!_

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_020\. Guard_

I was supposed to guard her. On my life and death I vowed I would. I promised it on the day we left Alexandria, before we set off on a journey far bigger and longer than either of us could've anticipated. But I did not keep that promise, not the first time. I felt the duty to my last remaining blood was more important than that promise, and I left her. Unprotected and unguarded, surrounded by all the others, but not by me.

I supposed that when I came back and received the cold shoulder for more than a month, after she'd truly realised it was me, of course, I shouldn't have been surprised. I did break my promise to her after all, so I did deserve it in a way. But then, finally, on the eve of her visit to Lindblum for the annual celebration of the two city's friendship, and she was due to be gone for a long time yet, she forgave me. With a passionate kiss, I might add. And I was finally able to take up my promise once more, even if it was unofficial. She let me come with her on that visit.

I was supposed to guard all of her, Steiner told me once. Apparently that also included her aptly given nickname of 'The Virgin Queen'. I did not see eye to eye with him on that and, well, on that trip to Lindblum, she lost _all_ right to that nickname. In a way, I broke my promise to guard her again. But I don't think she minded too much.

And when some ass decided to throw something at her in the streets, in defiance of her, I was the one who caught it. I was the one who guarded her. I was also the one who later took him aside and explained to him in very, _very_ grave terms why he should not have done that, and why he should not do that ever again. How she was the kindest queen he could get, so he'd better not complain again.

Everyone began talking after that. They said I was her dearest friend, which I may've been. They said I was her bodyguard, which I sort of was and was not. They said I was her lover, which I had been, in Lindblum. They said I would be her lover, even after she married a prince, which I vowed I would not be - nor would I let happen.

The threat of marriage was always so real though. She told me that increasingly so the pressure was getting heavier and heavier. It was my duty only to guard her, so I didn't say anything. Until one day, when she was at her mother's grave during council, I proposed an idea to them.

"I'll marry her."

I saw their looks of borderline disgust, and their chattering bubbled to a full roar.

"Listen." I commanded through gritted teeth. "You have no one viable to marry her, and I have shown time and time again that I can guard her from whatever may happen. And I have the strength and knowledge from travelling the entire world and more."

They quietened, and some of them looked at me with a slight nod of agreement. But others prized their pure blood lines, and would fight to the death for them.

"Think about it." I suggested, leaving the room before they could say another word.

The next day, she ran to me and hugged me, arms going around my neck as she smiled into my shoulder.

"They'll let me marry you!" She exclaimed, looking at my face with joy. I was taken aback, eyes wide open and eyebrows raised. And then I smiled, pulling her into a hug once more.

"Now, let me do this properly." She said, guiding us to sit on a nearby sofa or chair or - it didn't matter. "Will you marry me?" She asked, chewing the corner of her bottom lip slightly.

"Of course."

And now, here I am, promising once more to guard her. I said I would many times before, and promised at least twice. But this time, I will keep the promise. I'll guard her forever.

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_I'm always a fan of antagonising the bureaucracy (God I can never spell that word! Thank you, spell check) it just creates some of the best plots when writing about royalty, I feel. But there we go. I hope you liked it, please review if you did and follow for updates. Thanks! _


	4. 050 Flower

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy IX**_

_This is the penultimate oneshot! There will be goodbyes to come yet, so I hope you like this chapter for the meantime. Enjoy! _

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_050\. Flower _

_Red Rose_

I heard the gentle flapping of wings first. Then I heard her voice, clear and trembling of the soft wind, singing a melody that seemed so old, and warm. It was so elegant, and just like her. It was just like her to surrounded by flowers. But of course, when I finally made it to the terrace, she stopped singing and the birds flurried away. I knew I wasn't as elegant as she was, but I didn't think I was that scary.  
She looked at me, serenely, the soft blue sky of midday and the clouds hovering on it floating calmly behind her, her eyes widened and doe like. And all around the grey marbled columns and further along on the terrace were flowers - red roses. So red, and full, that they looked fit to drop blood. I'd always thought that was more Beatrix's territory - she was the one with the haunted past and scars adorning her body and blood dripping from her hands (not that I could talk) - but they looked strangely good behind Dagger. The harsh, deep, red contrasted against her unmarked creamy skin, and settled against her glossy black hair. But of course - she was just too shy to know that.  
I realised why the flowers looked so right next to her later. They looked so right, because the blood filled petals were just a mirror of her past and a portent of her future. She was the last survivor of an entire race, and her future was full of more blood, and more pain. Her Eidolons - her life blood, the only reminder of her past - were taken from her, the strongest of which was thrown back to her by Beatrix, contained in a blood red Garnet, just like her namesake. On her mothers grave, she lay a wreath of the blood red roses, bursting with moisture, and something that looked more sinister. She didn't whimper, or cry - she was stronger than that now. She just lay the wreath down, and looked up to the sky.  
When she asked for my dagger, I worried - I panicked that soon, I may see her crimson blood dotted on the flowers and she'd be no more. Bit she coaxed me into it, and eventually I have her my dagger, throwing it loosely to where she was standing on the end of the pier. She told me to remember her as she was, and I worried internally, but I trusted the smile on her face. She looked up to Alexandria, the city of cranes that it was now, and she hacked through her beautiful ebony hair. I watched as the strands twisted and twirled in the air past me, and she smiled, as though a great weight had been removed from her shoulders. I could have sworn I saw a strand or two of her black hair lace their way around the blooms of the red roses standing on the grave behind us.

But it wasn't to last. I can remember exactly, in my last moments, how she looked. Behind her, lay a vast expanse of yellowish, orange sky, dead upon arrival. The hulking great airship was a mesh of umber wood and steely grey plating - but it was just a blur to me, a gateway to a future I'd stopped considering. I was kneeling on on knee, and I can remember how the ground felt dead beneath me - the dry, dead plants cracked beneath my knee and foot, and the soil was equally as dry, rock hard, and as infertile as possible. Nothing was green there, everything was grey. Dead, or dying, and a the colour of regret - of years of glory gone past and waned. She looked tired too, swaying slightly on her feet but grounded by how earnestly and confusedly and worriedly her wide, red-rimmed, sparkling dark brown eyes looked into my far less impressive blue ones. She was biting her bitten lip to keep it from trembling, and her eyebrows were pinched. With a few words, we parted, and as I felt her eyes on me as the airship flew up as away, I didn't look back. I couldn't look back. I didn't want to remember her crying at me. I did love her - I think it may have been true love - I was not cruel enough to keep the ending long and messy. I wanted to remember her as I first truly saw her: singing a warm melody from a life gone past, the white doves surrounding her, and the red roses, filled to the brim with moisture, framing her.  
Those red roses were the last thing I knew.

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_For reference, the Red Rose symbolises True Love in plant symbolism._

_So I hope that you liked this chapter! Please, review if you liked it and follow for more. Thanks!_


	5. 050 Eyes

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy IX**_

_This is the end! I'm afraid that this is the final oneshot I will be doing for now, although I have some more planned for the future, in about 6 months to a year you might see them around. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, it was very lovely to hear your thoughts!_

_For now, enjoy!_

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_050\. Eyes_

_See_

When we saw her after Brahne's death, I knew that something wrong. I was certain. And perhaps I was looking for something to be wrong too, because then maybe she might've been missing us. But mostly me. So I don't really know how I felt about there being something _actually_ wrong with her. I saw her eyes, after seeing the rest of her in that beautiful, tight white dress. They were bright in the many candles, and sparkling in the flames. But there was nothing in them. She seemed empty, standing up there, so far away from us all. She looked like a doll being paraded; even the Tin-Can Man could've realised that there was something missing. But they didn't. Her eyes were empty, they were harbouring her fear. I saw it, even when all the others didn't. Even so, I couldn't do anything for her, not then.

Her eyes were stuck in my head for the entire interim wherein I didn't see her. The empty, charcoal like eyes were tattooed behind my eyelids, spearing my mind whenever I closed my eyes. They appeared in other women's eyes. They appeared in my dreams, and in every waking moment. I couldn't get the empty look out of my head, how dead they looked, and how terrified they seemed just beneath the almost black surface. It was such a change from the near-chocolate pools that had become my every sense in the past few months. I knew those eyes like the back of my hand, and how they rippled with her joy and stirred in her anger and narrowed in her laughter... But I never saw how they looked with the blank, dead, fear.

Her eyes had not changed one jot by the next time I saw her. Not a bit, she seemed just as dead, and when they weren't looking, just as scared. She looked almost happy to see me, but it faded just as quickly as it had appeared. She looked cold, and scared, and small on the back of the Castle Eidolon. And later, when the whole of Alexandria had been flattened, she looked just the same - if not worse. Her clothes were a grimy orange and the iridescent, smooth material was ripped and pulled. Her hair was a wild, raven wing and her skin was muddied and scraped and no longer the perfect porcelain - she was free of her dollish prison. Her face was puffed from crying and her eyes and nose stained a crimson-berry hue; her chin scraped and the hair sticking to her face. But the fear was gone from her eyes. As was the brief confusion and horror and awe. They were dead; cold and dead and blackened lumps.

I could see that, but they couldn't. I could see the fear and the horror and the confusion where they couldn't. I could see it where even she couldn't - her eyes were known better to me, then they were to herself, by the end. By then end, when her eyes regained something of their colour, through her fear - the fear I last saw her with.

But the fear didn't stop me from leaving her.

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_Well, that's a nice bit of angst to end on!_

_Please, review if you've like this series or this oneshot in particular, and follow for future updates. Thanks!_


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